I don't expect anyone to read this.
This morning, you'll be far too busy finding out who is running the country. Some of you will have stayed up all night waiting for the Portillo moment. Many of you will be nursing hangovers. Others will be staring in despair into your hemlock porridge.
What you're most unlikely to do is log on and read a writing blog. I don't mind. I can blabber on anyway, without the need to be remotely entertaining or informative.
Obviously I'm writing this yesterday. Though I'm well known for leaving things til the last minute, I'm not blogging live...yet. So while you know who is our new leader ( well done to Dave or Gordon or Nick, though not Griffin natch ), I don't. And at time of going to press I'm still undecided.
I know, I know. It's pahtetic but I'm one of those floating voters. Contrary to a few, some might say, unkind comments, this is not an exercise in attention seeking. Okay, my agreeing to give interviews on LBC radio about my political dithering could be construed as look-at-me city, but when I was offered the gig I just couldn't refuse.
Actually, I've really, really enjoyed it. I mean who wouldn't? That nice Nick Ferrari asking me questions about what I think of the election and which way I'm leaning. It was a gift for someone like me who loves to talk. Thousands of listeners hanging on my every word. Well maybe not hanging, but you know....paying attention. And if Gordon Brown has a great face for radio, then I have the perfect arse.
As an aside, I've often thought my need to blether is why I started to write. I could, you see, talk for ten hours a day, but people just won't listen. Husband-who-lives-in-hope is good for an hour tops. And the kids are useless. They keep wanting to tell me stuff. So I worked out that if you just write down what you have to say, you can go on and on. No one will stop you for pages and pages and pages. Genius.
In many ways it's like radio too, in that your audience is invisible. You can't see them rolling their eyes and stage whispering, 'will someone just tell her to shut the fuck up.' See, genius.
Each week I've looked forward to giving Nick my update. Except the weeks I went missing. Due to a volcanic ash cloud and an incompetent travel company I got stuck in Bangkok. They were having the hottest weather on record. Oh, and there is a mini revolution going on. Apart from that it was great.
I'm pretty sure my absence was noted during that gap. The LBC voters missed me and my thoughts. Which party, for example would best represent writers? Well, we're self employed so maybe the tories? Then again most of us earn bugger all, so maybe Labour? I'll admit my musings were hardly ground breaking.
Anyhow, as of this moment, I can confirm that it wasn't all a ploy. I'm still undecided. But here's the best part - it doesn't even matter, because in real time the whole shebang is sorted. Or am I in real time as I write?
Who cares? There's no one reading this. I can bang on all day. Mwha ha ha...